Tuesday, April 29, 2008

This week, it is less of an inkling and more of a certainty. He will be there. Pretending like everything is okay, I'm sure.

I want to be able to look him in the eye. I want to be able to walk into that building, see him through the open door to his office and give him a little wave. I don't want the tension and the drama of last week. I want to acknowledge that he is there. And then I want to play my game. Not "play," halfheartedly, like I did last week.

And I want two seconds alone with him. I had it last week, but I wasn't prepared.

This week, if all of the stars align again, I will be prepared to ask him the one question I need answered.

What is it about me that makes it so easy for you dismiss my existence?

Ok the look of panic I can see that being satisfying. But just waiting for a response I can see that being killer, you'll ask, then hope he'll have an answer, when he doesn't. . later you'll hope that he did. YIKES sounds painful to me. But . . .uh. . .good luck.

Hi. I'm A.

Born, raised, educated in the Midwest, I am such a Midwesterner. So Midwestern, if you will.

I am: a blogger of 8+ years, forever searching for my next athletic challenge, hopelessly overscheduled and always, always eating.

I started So Midwestern right after I graduated from college, hoping to chronicle my transition to adulthood. Graduate school, four half marathons, two new nephews, three apartments, a trip to Africa, a sprinkle of heartbreak, dozens of unfinished knitting projects, four turns as a bridesmaid, 8,913 job applications and two full-time positions later: I’m fairly convinced that the day when I feel like a legitimate, full-fledged grownup will never come. So I’ll just keep on blogging.

I write about a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing. Toss my ramblings with a few pictures, a touch of swearing and an endless appreciation for the beauty that is David Beckham and you have So Midwestern. Welcome.